


Turn The Page

by Evaine



Series: The Jamie and Squirt Chronicles [2]
Category: Metallica
Genre: First Time, M/M, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evaine/pseuds/Evaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James is up to something - is it enough to keep Lars from club-hopping?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn The Page

Lars took the stairs two by two, humming tunelessly under his breath. His hair, still damp from his unasked-for dip in the neighbour’s pool, was cool on the bare skin of his back, but at least his ragged denim shorts had just about dried in the late summer heat. His t-shirt, however, was beyond repair – ripped all the way up the seam from hem to neck.

Damn Mustaine anyway! If he hadn’t decided it’d be hilarious to throw Lars into the fucking pool with all his clothes on, Lars would be ready to hit the bars with him and Cliff now. If James had been around, Dave would have been the next one in the water, of that Lars was certain. But James had disappeared sometime earlier, leaving only Cliff to try and control Mustaine’s wild behaviour. And Cliff was next to useless when he’d been smoking up. There had been lots of weed around that afternoon.

The bedroom door stuck slightly as he turned the handle. With a muttered curse, he thrust his hip against it, and it flew open with a crash.

“What the fuck…!” A flurry of movement on the single bed that was James’, and a pair of shocked blue eyes stabbed him.

“Relax, fuck.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s only me.” He stepped into the room, slamming the door behind him. “What’re you doing hiding up here anyway?” He threw his tattered t-shirt onto the mattress that served as his bed, and began to slip out of his shoes.

“Nuthin’.” James’ tone was too nonchalant, too quiet, too not-pissed off. Lars pushed his hair from his eyes and studied him for a moment. He was hiding something.

“Bullshit.” Lars kicked his shoes toward the mattress, and proceeded to shimmy out of his shorts and briefs. “You wanna come to the bar?”

“I’ll pass. Gonna hang out here for a bit.” James stretched out on his back, clasping his hands behind his head, trying to appear relaxed, but Lars could almost hear the tension humming from him. “How come your hair’s wet?”

“Dickwad Mustaine threw me in the fucking pool.” Lars wasn’t buying it for a minute - Hetfield passing on going to the bar? That was fucked up - he was definitely up to something. And Lars was not about to let him change the subject.

“Why do you let him push you around?” James asked, his brows drawing together in the beginnings of a frown.

“Like I have a fucking choice.” Lars began to dig in the battered dresser, looking for a clean pair of briefs, while keeping an eye on James in the mirror. “He’s twice my size, or hadn’t you noticed.” He pulled out a pale blue pair of underwear and slipped them on.

“You gotta stop picking at him, Lars. One day he’s gonna fucking deck you,” James warned, giving his shoulders an odd little squirm. Lars’ quick eyes picked out something peeking out from under the pillow.

“You _are_ hiding something!” Lars grinned gleefully and jumped onto the bed, narrowly missing James’ hip.

“Dammit!” James’ hands snaked out from behind his head and grabbed Lars’ wrists. “I am not.”

“Yes you are. Under your pillow. I can see it.” Lars struggled against James’ grip, determined to get to the bottom of this sudden mystery. “C’mon, James, please? Tell me?” He wheedled, summoning up his best wide-eyed, pleading look, the one that usually got him his way with everyone, including James.

“Don’t fucking do that!” James’ fingers loosened somewhat around Lars’ wrists, but they didn’t let go.

“Do what?” Lars blinked and leaned closer. “Please tell me, James. Tell me what you’re hiding.” Closer until he could feel James’ breath brush against his cheeks. “Please?” Over the past few weeks, he’d learned things about his natural armoury of weapons that could work on James.

“You fucker, you don’t play fair.” James gave in with a rueful snort of laughter, pushing Lars away from him. “Here.” He slid a hand under the pillow and withdrew a book. He thrust it at Lars and hoisted himself to a sitting position, his arms wrapped around his knees.

“What the fuck is this?” Lars turned the book over in his hands, his eyes widening. “Where did you get this?” He flipped through the volume, suddenly not interested in bar-hopping any longer. “Fuck!” He closed the book with a loud slap.

“Yeah… fuck.” James glanced back to meet Lars’ wide-eyed gaze, a dull flush flooding his cheeks. Lars shifted his position to ease his sudden hard-on.

“Why?” Lars opened the book and started flipping again.

“I just thought…” James cleared his throat, and Lars glanced up. “I just thought that since we seemed to be headed that way…”

“That we should have some kind of fucking idea what we were doing,” Lars finished for him. Lars bobbed his head in understanding and flashed James a wide grin. “Works for me.”

“Don’t you find these past few weeks even a little strange?” James demanded incredulously, twisting around so he could face him. “I mean, half the time we end up making out, jacking each other off, or giving each other blow jobs, and it doesn’t even fucking faze you?”

“I stopped wondering about it after the second time, James,” Lars admitted. His fingers flicked at the pages of the book, but he refused to look away. “I liked it. You seemed to like it. I didn’t figure it was a problem. You’d have said something if it was.” He shrugged. “Was I wrong?”

“No-o-o… you weren’t wrong.” James ducked his head, his lips twitching with a shy grin. “It’s just I never thought… never even considered… you know.” He looked at Lars through the curtain of unruly blond waves that fell in front of his face, and Lars was certain he could see his blue eyes twinkling. “So, that’s how we handle it? We just fucking accept it? Don’t ask questions?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, so, that’s why I got the book.” James tossed back his hair and raised a sandy eyebrow. “You know, so we don’t screw up. ‘Cause if we keep it up, that’s –“ he pointed a finger at the book, “- where we’re headed.”

“Yeah.” Lars looked back down at the book and then up at James again, a mischievous grin lighting his face. “Could be fun.”

“Wanna beer?” James returned his grin.

“Yeah… yeah…” Lars opened the book again. “I’ll just check this out while you go fetch them, okay?” His eyebrows rose. “Well now, look at that.”

“Just don’t get too fucking far ahead, cocksucker.” James scrambled to his feet. Lars waved him off with a lazy hand, his eyes glued to the page in front of him.

The book was interesting to say the least. He wondered how James had acquired it. Even if this _was_ San Francisco, he couldn’t just see the tall, intimidating tough guy strolling into one of those shops down in the gay district. James would have died first. Had he gotten it from one of their friends? Lars couldn’t think of a single one who would be interested in such a thing, never mind owning on a damned book on it.

 _Holy fuck, how’d they do that!_ He brought the book closer to his face, heat flooding into his groin, his cock twitching in response. _Jesus, they must be fucking gymnasts!_ He read the accompanying text, and comprehension dawned in his eyes.

“I thought you were gonna wait.”

Lars jumped. James grinned as he kicked the door shut with his heel, and Lars realised that the hand that wasn’t gripping the book was massaging his dick through the thin material of his briefs. He shrugged good-naturedly and reached out for one of the beer bottles James held.

“Like scratchin’ an itch,” he said, moving over on the bed to give James room.

“You have no fucking shame, do you?” James’ tone was teasing. The bed sank beneath his weight as he stretched out on his side next to Lars, propping his head up on his hand.

“With you?” Lars snorted. He took a long pull on the beer, enjoying the coldness of it as it went down. The room was hot, even the new fan he’d convinced his old man to buy for them not doing much more than pushing the warm air around. With a contented sigh, he slid down to lay on his back and grinned up at James. “Now, you wanna tell me where you got this?” He tapped the back of the book resting face down on his stomach.

“No.” James’ eyebrows rose as he drank from his own bottle, and Lars sighed. He’d get it out of him eventually.

“It’s a good idea, though,” he said. “It’s always good to know everything you can about something.”

“Hm –hmm.” James nodded and gestured with the beer bottle towards the book. “Where’d you get to?”

“Here. Didn’t actually read too fucking much though.” Lars picked up the book and held it, propped on his middle so they both could see. He could sense the heat pouring from James’ body next to his, despite the temperature in the room. James’ shirtless chest glistened with sweat, and Lars stilled the sudden urge to run his tongue over it.

James tapped his shoulder with a gentle finger.

“Go back a page or two,” he urged. “Make sure we both know what’s going on.”

The bright sunlight coming through the bent and uneven slats of the blinds on the window dimmed as the late afternoon slipped quickly into evening. James had made a second quick run downstairs to fetch another pair of beers, shucking off his jean shorts upon his return, claiming it was just too damned hot. Lars chuckled in amusement. If he was so damned hot, why the hell did he keep rubbing his leg along the shorter length of Lars’ own calf? That earned him a flipped finger, and a softly growled “fuck you”.

“It’s getting too fucking dark to read,” Lars said finally, closing the book. “Besides, I think we’ve um… taken in enough for one day, don’t you?” His balls were aching, and if something wasn’t done soon, he figured he’d just about explode.

“Are you sure those two aren’t coming back until late?” James rose up on one elbow and took the book from Lars’ hand, dropping it on the floor beside the bed.

“That’s what they said. Going to check out that band over at O’Hara’s.” Lars grinned. “Dave’s got the hots for that waitress over there, and is determined to make tonight the night.” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“Well, what do you say -” James laid a warm hand on Lars’ stomach.

“That we practice some of what we’ve learned?” Lars finished for him, turning before the words were out of his mouth.

There was always a sense of restrained violence in James’ kisses at first, as if he wanted to claim and control all that he touched. His mouth ground against Lars’ teeth, rough and demanding, still faintly tasting of beer as his tongue began its invasion. Lars pressed against him, relishing the aggression, sucking James’ tongue into his mouth hungrily, giving as good as he got, yet unable to silence the urgent moan the kiss coerced from him. The scratch of the stubble around James’ mouth raked his own, more sensitive skin, setting nerve endings to tingling. James’ leg circled around him, pulling his hips closer, and Lars’ pelvis began moving, searching to ease the craving that had flared to violent life. His cock met the answering bulge of James’, and he ground against it, wanting and needing the friction and the pressure.

More – he needed more. He raked his fingers down James’ chest, his stubby, bitten nails leaving red marks in their wake. James growled, and Lars’ lips curved in a pleased smile.

“Too… many… fucking… clothes…” James’ voice was rough and ragged next to his ear, sending shivers through Lars’ body.

“That’s easily fixed.” Lars pulled free, and in a smooth motion, stripped the briefs down James’ legs and tossed them to the floor, his own quickly following. He gazed along James’ body for a long moment, the scratches on his chest barely visible in the faint light of late dusk, then bent to run his tongue along the length of one of the welts. James shuddered beneath him, one hand tangling in Lars’ hair.

“Jesus!” James gasped. Lars continued to lick down his torso, the taste of James’ sweaty skin salty on his tongue. Lars extended a hand to reach halfway down James’ inner thigh, and slowly dragged his fingernails up its length as his tongue swirled languidly around James’ bellybutton. The hand in Lars’ hair clenched as James gasped again. Lars breathed deeply of James’ musky scent, the pure maleness of it sending his senses reeling. He’d come to discover that he loved the smell, the taste, even the texture of James’ skin. His mouth moved lower as his hand moved higher, until his fingers ran gently but firmly over James’ balls, and his tongue flickered softly around the head of James’ cock. With a murmur of delight, he scraped his teeth feather light over the tip of it, tasting the single drop of pre-cum with the tip of his tongue.

“Motherfu…” James’ voice trailed off in a low moan.

“Where’d you get the book, James?” Lars asked softly, running his tongue along the length of James’ engorged dick.

“Fuck you,” James responded with a noise somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Bastard,” Lars murmured, taking James’ cock fully into his mouth. He’d find out somehow.

“Okay… whoa… whoa… don’t wanna come yet.” James murmured a few minutes later, tugging gently on Lars’ hair, his breath coming in short pants. Lars raised his head slowly, drawing his teeth lightly along the length of James’ shaft, and giving the head a final, gentle lick before sliding his body up James’ chest to rest his chin on his folded hands and grin.

“I want to try what we saw in the book, Jamie,” he said, pressing his groin against James’ hip. “I want to feel your dick inside me. I want to be fucked.” A rush of excitement filled him just by saying the words.

“But…” James eyebrows knitted together over his eyes. His hand untangled from Lars’ hair and stroked down over his back, his fingers running gently over Lars’ ass. Lars bit his lip and pressed harder against James’ hip. God, he ached.

“But what?”

“I thought…” James ran a hand over his mouth, eyes suddenly sparkling and before Lars could react, their positions had flipped and James was straddling his hips, grinning down at him.

“Fucker!” Lars exclaimed, biting back the amused laughter.

“I got the damned book, I should fucking be the first.” James’ grin widened. “Besides, you got the first blow job, so I should get the first butt-fucking.” Lars thought about it for a moment, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. He had to admit, it was logical. He also had to admit that the idea of plunging his aching dick into something was becoming more and more attractive by the second.

“Okay… you go first.” He let out a gusty sigh, giving in with as big of a production as he could manage. “But, shit, don’t we need some kind of stuff… what is it… lube?” His mind worked furiously, trying to think of something they could use, something he’d read in the book, anything.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” James quoted, rolling off him and hanging off the side of the bed. A moment later, his hand shot into the air in triumph, a bottle the size of a shampoo bottle gripped in his long fingers. He tossed the mass of blond hair from his face, and gave a small chuckle at Lars’ expression of surprise.

“Where?”

“I got it with the book, of course, dickwad.” Lars thought he looked as pleased with himself as he’d ever seen him.

“Well, fuck me.” Lars chuckled.

“No, you’re gonna fuck me.” James twisted the top from the bottle and squirted a generous amount in his hands. He rubbed them together, then paused, puzzled. “How do we do this, Squirt?” He asked with a small laugh.

“Trial and error, I guess.” Lars shrugged. He held his hands out. “Gimme some of that shit.”

In the end, they had to agree that they used far more than they probably needed to. With much cursing and laughter, they managed to get the lube where it needed to go, Lars quite enjoying the process of James coating his erect cock while he lay back and gave directions, much to James’ amused tolerance.

“Flip yourself over,” Lars said finally, grabbing James’ pillow and pushing it into James’ midriff. With a frown, he decided more was better and scrambled from the bed to get his own pillow from his mattress. “This too.”

“You’ve become a fucking little Hitler, haven’t you?” James chuckled, doing as he was told. Lars climbed back onto the bed and stretched himself along James’ exposed back, drawing his tongue along the length of his spine. When he reached the leanly muscled shoulders, he sank his teeth into the tanned skin. James moaned softly.

“Don’t bitch.” Lars pushed the hair from the back of James’ neck, looking for the sensitive spot just at the nape, the one spot the he had discovered that turned James to complete mush.

“Just sayin’… shi-i-i-i-t…” James breathed raggedly as Lars’ lips brushed against his skin. Lars smiled and nipped gently, feeling the body beneath him relax.

“Now, we gotta go slow,” he murmured softly between licks and nibbles. “Book said so.” His hands ran over James’ shoulders, gently massaging as his legs fell to either side of James’ hips, his slicked-up groin sliding smoothly against the small of James’ back. “Maybe we should have waited for the lube,” he chuckled.

“Mmm… feels… good…” James sighed, his ass rising slightly in response to Lars’ movements. His heart pounding, Lars slid even lower. James’ body was a contradiction of sensations against his torso: hard muscle beneath him, all sharp angles of hipbones and shoulder blades, yet his skin was deceptively soft. Electricity shot through him as he continued his downward movement over the sweat-slicked skin, his dick sliding over the crack of James’ ass. He barely noticed James’ hands twisting in the sheets.

“I’m gonna use more of the stuff,” Lars said, as he straightened to a sitting position on the top of James’ thighs. He reached for the bottle and squirted a generous amount over James’ buttocks. Breathing heavily, he ran both hands over the gently curving cheeks, each pass bringing his fingers closer to the crack between them. Biting his lower lip, he lightly ran an index finger along the line of the crack.

“Fuck!” James tried to separate his legs, raising his hips in response to Lars’ touch.

“Hold on… hold on…” Lars shifted, instead of straddling James’ thighs, moving to kneel between them. “Better?” His hands were still moving over James’ ass, his fingers teasing along the length of the crack, moving slightly deeper each pass.

“Mmm… yeah…” James’ voice trailed off into a muffled moan as the fingers of one of Lars’ hands moved over his balls and the other explored even deeper.

“Fuck, James… this is… um… turning me on…” Lars’ face was flushed, his cock hard between his legs.

“I think… fuck –“ James’ chuckle snapped into a gasp as Lars’ finger applied a slight pressure to his hole. “It’s… supposed to.” He let out his breath in an explosive sigh.

“You sure about this?” Lars leaned forward, keeping his hand still between his belly and James ass. “We can stop…”

“And waste all this fucking lube?” James turned his head to look back at him, his eyes hooded and heavy with want. “Fuck no… keep going.”

“Slow, okay?” Lars nodded. “Just tell me to stop if you have to.”

“I will.”

“It’s probably gonna hurt.” Lars applied more pressure, his finger sliding in to its first knuckle, his other hand kneading the flesh of James’ buttocks slowly and gently.

“At first maybe…”

“Just relax, okay?” He pushed his finger in a little farther, moving it slightly.

“’S’okay…” James’ hands clenched in the sheets. “Damn, that’s good.” His hips began to move slightly beneath Lars.

“Where’d you get the book?” Lars stilled his finger.

“Just fucking _do_ it!” James thrust his hips back suddenly, his inner muscles drawing the finger in the rest of the way. “Fuck!” He groaned.

“You okay?” Lars felt the stirrings of alarm twist through his excitement.

“Fuck yeah.”

“More?”

“Um-hum…”

“Like this?” Lars was hesitant, not sure of anything he was doing, just working on instinct.

“Yeah…”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really… feels sorta weird… weird good… ya know?”

“Should I… try another finger?”

“Okay… … … shi… “

Lars moved his fingers in and out slowly at first, encouraged by the way James’ was grinding his hips into the pillows beneath him, and the low animal sounds coming from his mouth. The fingers of his other hand played over the small of James’ back, slick with lube, enjoying the way the downy hair just above the curve of his ass felt beneath his fingertips. God, the noises James was making! His own breathing was ragged and loud in his ears nearly drowning out the hum of the fan.

“Now, Squirt, try it now.”

“Oh God, you sure?”

“Yes…”

“Shit, James, it’s tight… Lemme get some more of the lube shit.“ He was actually going to do this. He was actually going to fuck him!

“Just fucking do it… … please…”

“’Kay… fu… Jesus Christ, James… it feels…”

“Oh, ow… fuck… ah… there… “

Oh shit, it felt too damned good! Jesus, James’ muscles were so tight around his cock! And the friction! Fuck! _Am I doing this right? I must be, he’s moaning… Christ, he’s moaning and I’m making him moan! Oh, shit, it’s so… fuck, my fingers keep slipping from the fucking lube all over the fucking place! Damn, it’s tight!_

“I’m not…” Jesus, he couldn’t take much more…

“Not what?”

“Gonna fucking… last much longer…” He clenched his teeth.

“Oh, goddammit… fuck… what –“ James’ back arched beneath Lars hands, a hoarse howl bursting from his throat.

“Fuck… I think I hit your… what… prostate thing?” Lars dug his fingers into James’ hips. “The fucking book… James… where…” He shuddered, waves of orgasm stiffening his frame.

“Never the fuck… ahh… shit… mind.” James buried his face against the bed and gave a long, low moan. “Fuck…I came…” he groaned moments later, Lars draped bonelessly across his back, both gasping for breath.

“Jesus suffering Christ on a pogo stick!” Lars opened his eyes slowly, raising his head to look at James. All he could make out in the dim light was the tangle of light hair, James’ face still hidden. “You okay?” His hand reached up to touch James’ shoulder.

“Mmm?” James stirred. His head turned and he pushed some of the hair from his face, enough so that Lars could make out his slack, dreamy expression. “Yeah… yeah, man, I’m fine.”

With a groan, Lars gently eased himself out, recalling just in time a warning from the book that pulling out too fast would hurt his partner. He rolled off James’ back, a slight feeling of regret passing over him at the loss. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he hoisted himself to a sitting position, drawing his knees up to rest his elbows on them.

“Fuck, what a mess.” His body, James’ body, the bed – everything was covered in lube, come and sweat. He chuckled ruefully. They had gotten somewhat carried away in their enthusiasm.

“What time…” James yawned and stretched at his side. “… Is it?” His arm snaked out behind Lars to switch on the bedside lamp. “Fuck, what a disaster.”

“I think we sorta overdid the lube thing,” Lars observed with a grin, and James snorted in amusement.

“Did you leave any?” James began to search for the bottle.

“Me?” Lars protested.

“Yeah, you,” James smiled at him as he twisted around to look over the edge of the bed on Lars’ side. “You always go overboard with everything,” he teased, grunting with satisfaction as he found the bottle on the floor. “Well, there just might be enough left.” He held it up for Lars to see.

“We’re definitely doing something wrong,” Lars frowned at the level of liquid in the bottle. Something told him that a bottle of that size should be lasting for much longer. Details of this nature concerned him.

“Didn’t feel wrong.” James placed the bottle on the bedside crate. “Felt pretty good, as a matter of fact.” He reached up to grip Lars’ shoulder and pull him down next to him. “Gimme ten minutes and I’ll show you,” he grinned.

*~*~*~*

Three thirty-five in the morning. The door to the bedroom stuck, followed by a muffled curse, then opened quietly, and an auburn head poked inside. Hopefully, the noise of the fan had covered his entrance. Dark eyes took note of the heap of sheets, towels and blankets on James’ bed, then strayed over to the mattress along the wall. A gentle smile curved lips that held a cigarette as the brown gaze came to rest on the two forms sleeping on the mattress, the larger one curled around the smaller one. As it should be, he thought, as the smaller one stirred and murmured something about a fucking book. The grin widened.

He closed the door with a soft click and turned to the figure coming up the stairs.

“Totally shit-faced,” he whispered. “Both of ‘em passed out and stinkin’ the place to high heaven. Best to leave ‘em be.”

“I guess they didn’t get lucky tonight either,” Dave snickered quietly.

Cliff quelled his small grin by sucking deeply on his cigarette. He wouldn’t say that - not exactly.  


**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my wonderful friend, Lisa, for the late-night beta and all her help in getting these two to where they wanted to go. And to Ang for answering every question I asked her. :)


End file.
